


Bullet For My Valentine

by reinadefuego



Category: NCIS
Genre: Community: ncis_drabble, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: "He always did like being cuffed to things."Written for challenge #537 - "gunfire" at ncis_drabble.





	Bullet For My Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> This continues on from [Sword and Shield.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10768620)

Trent watched as four black shapes descended, rapidly moving towards the large field surrounding the house. He'd chosen the safe house for this exact reason: if anyone approached, he could see them coming. Surely even Gibbs -- stretched out in the roof cavity with his .50-cal -- couldn't make a shot like that.

"Tony, stay inside when they land."

"You need backup." Typical Trent, always arguing the point. DiNozzo groaned and stepped closer to the window. Parachutes suddenly ballooned from their backs and caught the wind, lifting the four figures up; it also slowed them down considerably.

"Wait 'til they're close to the ground," Trent radioed Gibbs, "I'm not killing them if I --"

In a heartbeat, Tony tackled Trent to the floor and pinned him as bullets tore up the east wall of the house. He kissed him on the cheek and looped one end of a handcuff around Trent's wrist, attaching the other to the leg of the sofa bed that doubled as a couch.

"DiNozzo!"

* * *

Gibbs shot clean through each parachute once they were close enough to the ground and the assault force dropped like flies. All four fell hard, but the small explosion just inches from his head alerted him to the fifth. The only thing a sniper feared was another sniper, so Gibbs slid back towards the manhole, dragging his rifle with him.

Three of them, five from Delta: well, their odds of survival certainly weren't going to get any better.

"We're not here for you, Gibbs," an American shouted. "You can still walk away."

 _He's meant to be dead._ Trent groaned and sat up, flicking his pistol's safety off with one hand. Gibbs dropped down from the ceiling and took up position behind the second couch, while DiNozzo dragged the solid oak dining table towards them. "Wait till they're inside! Only three of us were ever combat proficient."

"Which ones?"

"The bloke, Hayes, and me."

"Define combat proficient."

"He's a former SEAL." The executioner and CIA side of things needed no mention. "Recruited for Team Six, till the CIA decided he'd be better off working for us."

* * *

_"It's just a job, Haine,"_ a voice crackled in Gibbs' ear. _"I could kill all my exes in my sleep without feeling a drop of guilt, you included."_

"Gibbs, take your agent and leave. You've got ten seconds," Haine shouted and began to count down.

_"On one, we breach the door. You two, take the sides."_

Splitting them up was smart. Gibbs watched and waited as the countdown reached three. He could see a figure through each side window closing in on the house. On one, a shot rang out, and the door stayed closed.

A moment later, the figure by the right window dropped to the ground, and the left figure circled back around. Rapid gunfire rang in his ears and after Gibbs took a breath, another figure came into view.

_"Kort still alive?"_

"He's cuffed to the couch."

A chuckle. _"He always did like being cuffed to things."_


End file.
